Page 109 of Frozen Hearts
“Then there’s your answer.”
He nods, seeming satisfied, before shifting onto his ass and crossing his legs in front of him. I watch, confused. “What are you doing?”
“Figured I’d sit with you until you do feel okay.”
“Why would you do that? Why do you even care?”
Royce is a complete enigma. He keeps himself locked behind so many layers, never giving anything real away. Every time I think I have him sussed, he surprises me and I am once again thrown off kilter.
The only answer I receive is a shrug. I know better by now than to push him. If he doesn’t want to give an answer, he won’t.
Instead, I rest my chin on my knees and silently watch him. He watches me right back. The two of us are strangers attempting to gain an honest read of one another. Words have never been our language. It’s our bodies that do all the talking.
Like, right now, his posture is open, offering me surprising reassurance. Yet, at the same time, he’s still so shut down. He’s telling me without words that he’s here but unwilling to share any of himself.
I’m not entirely sure why I decide to cross that divide, but my lips part on their own accord, the words spilling from my tongue. “He never used to be so angry.” My tone is hushed as I stare at the faded band logo on Royce’s T-shirt. “He had the best smile. There were days when I lived just to see it. The way it reached his eyes and made them sparkle. And his laugh,ugh.” I can’t help but smile as I dig up the sound from the depths of my memory. It was the kind of laugh that wrapped around you like a thick blanket on a freezing winter’s night, keeping the cold at bay and ensuring you were warm and cozy.
“You liked him,” Royce keenly observes. It’s not a question so I don’t answer, and eventually, he tacks on, “I’ve never seen him smile like that. Or, at all, really.”
That’s sad. I know I’m partially to blame, but equally, I don't believe that it’s my fault. Why should I carry the guilt of that? Grayson losing that light magnetic energy surrounding him is not what I wanted. None of this is what I wanted.
“How long have you known each other?” I ask Royce, needing to veer the topic off my memories of Grayson.
“Since freshman year. The three of us met one night in a bar. Well, more like they saved me from getting my drunk ass handed to me.”
“You got into a fight?”
He nods, not elaborating further.
“And you became instant BFFs.”
His lips quirk at my teasing tone. “Something like that.”
“Have you always fought like you do at The Depot?”
“Nah. I started doing it in the off-season when I started at Halston. It only became a more regular thing this year.”
“You used to be a football player, right? Quarterback?”
He stiffens, his gaze hardening. “Yeah.”
“Do you miss it?”
He instantly relaxes when I don’t start peppering him with questions about what happened. Again, I know better than to ask questions he won’t answer.
Dropping his gaze to the floor, he sighs. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”
“I’m sorry," I say softly, thinking how lost I'd feel if I could no longer dance. "It must be incredibly difficult to adapt to a life without it. I know, not being able to dance would feel like a death sentence for me. And having to see your teammates on campus all the time..." I shake my head. I can only imagine how torturous that would be. "It must be agony," I empathize. "All that rage needs to be channeled somewhere. No one could blame you for taking it out on the world around you." He merely blinks at me, his expression unreadable, although something passes between us—an understanding, and I dare to ask, “Does drawing help?”
“That’s enough questions for today, Babydoll,” he says, bringing our conversation to an abrupt halt as he gets to his feet. “I believe Grayson has a special evening planned for all of us.”
“How delightful,” I deadpan, wishing we could stay in this moment. I like talking to Royce, even if he doesn’t really do much in the way of actual talking. It still feels as though he’s contributing to the conversation through his body language alone.
He smirks down at me. “On the plus side, you get to come out with us tomorrow night.”
“Where?” I ask with a frown. As far as I was aware, this is the only place other than Lux that I need to be for the next three weeks, and I’m not on the schedule to work tomorrow night.
“It’s Logan’s final game before the break, and he wants you there.”
